


Torn

by callboxkat



Series: College AU [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Homecoming, Homophobia, I'm Sorry, M/M, Panic Attack, Passing Out, Rejection, well it's a prequel to a college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callboxkat/pseuds/callboxkat
Summary: Virgil decides to come out to his parents so that he and his boyfriend can go to homecoming together. Things don't go as well as he would have hoped.





	Torn

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this is a prequel! So obviously things have changed between this story and where Tired starts. You don't need to read the rest of the series to understand this, but I recommend it especially if you want stories that end more happily.

_October 2015_

Virgil’s mom could be a bit much at times.

“Have you got a girlfriend yet? Anyone you’re interested in?”

“She’s cute.” Virgil felt a nudge against his shoulder. “You should ask her out.”

“Maybe you could ask Maria to the dance! She seems nice.” This was after one of Virgil’s classmates had come over for an hour to finish a group project.

“When are you going to get a girlfriend? You’re almost sixteen! I’m sure most of your friends already have girlfriends.”

…

 _No, mom, I don’t have a girlfriend,_  Virgil always wanted to say.  _I’m not interested in any girls. And I never will be_. But he didn’t. Instead, he would just scoff, say no, and change the subject.

Now that he had Liam, though, things were different. He and Liam had been together for almost three months now—Virgil’s first real relationship, and things were going very well so far. They’d only kissed twice, taking it slow mostly because of Virgil’s hesitancy, but… the feelings were real.

The only thing was that Liam wanted to be open about the fact that he and Virgil were together, but Virgil wasn’t exactly out of the closet. He knew some people had figured out that he was gay, or at least guessed that it might be the case, and very few people at his high school seemed like the type who would care about such a thing, but it was his parents that worried him.

They were just… almost aggressively straight. They never seemed to even consider the possibility of anyone not being a cisgender heterosexual. Virgil’s mother especially was always asking him if he’d gotten a girlfriend yet, when he was going to ask out some female classmate he barely spoke to, and so on. Virgil was also quite worried about his father’s potential reaction, as he was an avid churchgoer and a member of a congregation that didn’t strike Virgil as being incredibly open-minded.

But he didn’t want to disappoint Liam, not with things going so well. And Liam was so supportive, not really pushing Virgil into coming out, just occasionally mentioning how nice it would be for the both of them. And when Virgil complained about his mom’s insistent inquiries about his love life, Liam’s urging and his own desire to stop hiding became too much to ignore.

“Maybe… if you were okay with people knowing about us,” Liam had said shyly. “We could even go to homecoming together?”

After that, Virgil had resolved himself to come out to his parents. It was just a matter of gathering the courage.

…

“You have to tell them tonight! The dance is this weekend and tomorrow’s the last day to buy tickets.”

“I know, I know,” Virgil had said, resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Would it help if I came with you?”

Virgil felt relief wash over him. He nodded without removing his head from his hands. He felt Liam’s lips press against his forehead, and he smiled. Technically, that was their third kiss.

Virgil finally lifted his head, reaching out, and took Liam’s hand in his own.

…

When the two of them got to Virgil’s house, the windows were dark, and no car was in the driveway. Unsurprisingly, neither of Virgil’s parents were back from work yet. They probably wouldn’t be until six at the earliest, his father possibly even later if he stopped by the church.

Liam suggested that they play videogames until they got back. Virgil recognized that Liam was trying to distract him from his nervousness, and he appreciated it. Up until this point, he’d never even told his parents that Liam existed, let alone that they were….

Well, they would know soon enough.

Virgil and Liam were in the middle of a game of Mario Kart when they heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of a set of keys hitting a table.

Virgil’s controller fell out of his hands. He stared as his character’s car went off the edge of the road, and was vaguely aware of Liam squeezing his hand.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he was saying.

“No—no, I want to, Liam,” Virgil choked out, tearing his gaze away from the tv screen.

“Promise?”

Virgil nodded.

“Do you want to tell them one at a time, or together?”

Virgil opened his mouth, then shut it again. He hadn’t actually decided. Was it worse to have to come out twice in one day, or to have to face both his parents at once?

Virgil didn’t know, so he just shrugged, and then Liam was pulling him to his feet, and they were both heading down the stairs to the living room.

“We can just see what happens,” Liam whispered.

It was Virgil’s dad who had arrived home first. He must not have stopped at the church that night, then.

“Hey dad,” he said nonchalantly. “How was work?”

“Work was work,” Virgil’s dad said, smiling at him. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, this—this is Liam.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Liam.” Virgil’s dad stuck out his hand to Liam, who shook it with a grin. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Virge.”

When Virgil’s dad went to put away his jacket, Virgil felt Liam’s questioning gaze on him. Virgil shook his head minutely. No, not yet. He wasn’t ready.

“Will you be staying for dinner, Liam?”

“I would like that, Mr. Thompson—if it’s okay with you, of course.”

“Of course! The more the merrier!”

…

Virgil’s mom got home just as his father finished cooking dinner. The four of them sat down together—Virgil and Liam on one side of the table, Virgil’s parents on the other.

Everyone began to eat, but Virgil just stared down at his untouched plate for a few moments.

“So, Virgil, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?” his mom asked.

Virgil looked up, felt Liam grasp his hand under the table. “Well, uh…” he swallowed. “Liam isn’t exactly a friend.”

“Oh. Were the two of you just doing homework together or something?” Virgil’s dad asked over the rim of his glass of water.

“No—I mean, no, he’s more than just a friend.”

“A… best friend?” Virgil’s mom asked, sounding bewildered.

Virgil actually groaned at that. Why was this so difficult. “No…. Mom, dad, Liam is my boyfriend.”

For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then, there was a burst of sound from Virgil’s mom. Virgil’s head jerked up in surprise. Was she—? She was  _laughing_.

“Mom?” his voice came out as barely a breath.

“Vir—Virgil, you—” she was having trouble getting the words out. “You know it’s—it’s October, right? Not April Fool’s Day?”

Virgil’s eyes stung. He vaguely registered that his dad had laid a hand on his mom’s arm. Liam, at his side, seemed stunned.

“Mom. I’m not joking. Liam is—he’s my boyfriend. We’ve been together for—for months.” It was getting harder to speak, his throat closing up. “W-we’re going to… we’re going to homecoming together.”

Virgil’s mom had apparently realized that he was not, in fact, joking. Her laughter had stopped at some point; Virgil wasn’t sure when. “Virgil, stop it. This isn’t funny anymore.”

Virgil swallowed, remained silent.

“Don’t do this.”

Do what? What was he doing? Existing? Admitting who he was?

“Loretta—” Virgil’s dad began.

“John, stop. Virgil. Why are you doing this?”

Virgil found he couldn’t respond.

“Answer me, God damn it.”

Virgil flinched. His mom never swore at him. “I’m not—I’m not doing anything,” he mumbled. “I’m just—” his voice broke, and he was barely able to continue. “No—nothing’s changed. I’ve a-always been this way.” He took a shaky breath. “I’m g—.“

She cut him off sharply. “Stop saying that. I’m not going to have a  _fag_ as a son.”

“Mom—”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”

There was a roaring in Virgil’s ears. He could hear someone speaking, he wasn’t sure whom (or maybe it was multiple people?). He wasn’t sure how much time passed before something broke through to him.

“Get out of my house.”

Virgil was startled out of his haze. His head jerked up to face his mother.

“ _Get out!_  And take your—your _boyfriend_  with you!”

Virgil stood up, the chair grating harshly against the floor. Liam was already halfway to the door, but Virgil barged past him, outside into the chilly night air without stopping to grab a jacket, to grab anything.

He fell to his hands and knees on the sidewalk outside, breathing harshly.

“Virgil. Virgil!” Liam was in front of him, hands on his shoulders, face inches from Virgil’s own. Virgil struggled to focus his gaze on Liam’s wide brown eyes. His shoulders felt like they were being burned where his boyfriend touched them. His breath was coming in short bursts, and spots had begun to appear in his vision.

“Are you okay?”

That question was so ridiculous that Virgil almost wanted to laugh.

Liam’s gaze shot upwards, and Virgil realized that someone was walking up behind him from the house.

“Mr. Thompson, I don’t think—.”

“Liam, I apologize for the unfortunate turn of events this evening, but I think it would be best if you returned home now.”

Virgil thought the two of them said more, but he was having trouble hearing. His vision had started to gray at the edges.

He realized his father’s face hovered before him. He looked alarmed, apparently just now realizing how much his son was freaking out. “Virgil? Virgil, breathe!”

He was so dizzy. How had things gone so wrong?

“Virgil!”

…

Virgil found himself propped up in the backseat of his dad’s car. He stiffened, disoriented. What was going on?

He struggled the rest of the way upright, forcing his eyes to focus. He looked outside, and his gaze fell on the front door of his house, where his dad was standing with Virgil’s backpack around his shoulders and a duffel bag in hand.

He was yelling at someone inside. Virgil couldn’t tell what about.

God, he was tired.

His memory was starting to come back, and Virgil bit down on the bile rising in his throat. Had his mom—had she really…?

Virgil felt sick.

His dad came back to the car soon after, still carrying the two bags. He looked very relieved upon seeing Virgil awake, and opened the car door. He sat down beside his son and immediately pulled Virgil into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, and only then did Virgil realize that he was shaking and crying into his dad’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“The two of us are going to spend the night at a hotel, okay?” Virgil’s dad said after a few moments. “I don’t— …your mother needs some time to think things over.”

Virgil said nothing.

“I don’t care that you’re gay. You’re my son, and I love you. Okay? Do you understand?”

Virgil said nothing.

…

Virgil was so worn out that his dad ended up having to half-carry him into the hotel room. He collapsed on one of the small beds, distantly aware of his father setting down the two bags he had packed.

Too tired to cry any more, Virgil hid his face under the sleeve of his hoodie and let himself drift away.

…

Morning came too soon.

“Hey, Virgil,” his dad said, coming into the hotel room with two plates of food from the hotel’s complimentary breakfast. Virgil was lying in bed still, staring at his phone screen without actually doing anything with it. “How are you feeling today?”

Virgil finally looked at his dad at that. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

…

Even though Virgil’s dad had claimed that staying in the hotel was a one-night thing, Virgil knew better.

Virgil’s dad didn’t make him go to class that day, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t feeling up to being around people, and the thought of facing Liam after what had happened filled him with dread.

And, as expected, they spent another night in the hotel. That second night, Virgil didn’t think he got any sleep.

Liam had been texting him, but Virgil hadn’t even read them. He also had a voicemail from his mom that he decided was probably best deleted rather than listened to.

It was Saturday. The homecoming dance was tonight. Liam had called and texted a few more times, but Virgil hadn’t answered. He spent the day under the covers in his hotel room, hiding until the sun went away.

On that third night, Virgil waited until his father fell asleep before he went outside to sit on the curb outside the hotel. He listened to the crickets and distant car horns on the highway, and looked up at what stars could be seen past the street lamps. Most of the students at his school were leaving homecoming right now, saying goodbye to their dates or their friends, maybe rubbing sore feet and perhaps disentangling what had been very stylishly done-up hair at the start of the evening.

Virgil knew that homecoming wouldn’t have been perfect—nothing ever was, but he still wished that he could have spent the night with Liam. That things could have been different.

If his cheeks were damp, Virgil pretended not to notice.

…

On Monday, Virgil went back to class. He didn’t speak to anyone for the entire day, and as the day wore on, people stopped trying to get him to talk.

He did, however, seek out Liam after school got out.

“Hey,” Liam said, somehow managing to both brighten at the sight of his boyfriend and also shrink in on himself at the same time.

“Hey,” Virgil said. His voice sounded like gravel. He cleared his throat. “I… I wanted to talk to you.”

“Virge, listen, I wanted to apolo—,” Liam began, only to be cut off by Virgil raising a hand.

“Don’t… you—you didn’t do anything wrong.” Liam relaxed slightly, only to tense again as Virgil took a deep breath.

“V…?”

He had to get this over with before he lost his nerve.

“We should break up.”

“What?”

“You deserve someone who makes you happy,” Virgil ground out. His throat wanted to close up for some reason. “I can’t—I can’t make you happy. I’m sorry, Liam.”

He turned sharply and started away, only to be brought to a stop as Liam grabbed his arm. Virgil looked down. His vision swam with tears, but he could vaguely make out Liam’s darker tone against his own pallor.

“Please—.”

But Virgil shook his head. For a few minutes, the two of them simply stood there, until finally, Liam spoke again. He sounded defeated.

“Can I at least have a kiss goodbye?”

Virgil’s breath caught, but he nodded.

Their fourth kiss, Virgil’s first  _real_  kiss—the first one on the lips. It tasted of tears and Liam’s peppermint Chapstick.

Virgil couldn’t taste peppermint for months afterwards without thinking of him.

…

Virgil never did end up moving back in with his mom. She refused to accept him, and Virgil’s dad refused to let him stay in an environment like that

A lot of kids blamed themselves when their parents got a divorce. In Virgil’s case, that was actually accurate.

He and his dad were living on the other side of town—it was more of a commute to get to the high school, but it was worth being away from his mom’s harsh words. He had gotten his phone number changed to escape her calls and voicemails.

At Halloween, Virgil had dressed up as a ghoul and sat on the porch of the house his dad was renting, silently staring at children as they nervously came up to grab candy from the bowl in his arms. Apparently he was a little scarier than intended, as he had a ton of candy left for himself at the end of the night.

He’d liked the eye makeup, though. Maybe he would keep it.

…

The divorce was finalized a few months after Virgil’s sixteenth birthday. His mom, whom Virgil hadn’t seen in nearly a month at this point, hadn’t even acknowledged it passing. Even so, as time wore on, Virgil found that he was having a harder and harder time speaking. Teachers would ask him questions and he would freeze, caught like a deer in headlights, staring at them until they inevitably sighed and called on someone else.

They were usually exasperated when this happened, probably assuming that Virgil was just refusing to answer. Perhaps it was better that way, or perhaps not, but Virgil decided that it didn’t really matter.

He sometimes wondered if anything did.

**Author's Note:**

> This got a lot darker than I had originally intended. Don't trust me when I write at 3 AM.


End file.
